


It's collectively unconsciously composed

by EponineTheStrange (gallifreyandglowclouds)



Category: Doctor Who RPF
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-06
Updated: 2013-06-06
Packaged: 2017-12-14 04:28:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/832743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gallifreyandglowclouds/pseuds/EponineTheStrange
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: circus AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's collectively unconsciously composed

So, Charles Darwin is kind of hot. 

Or, at least the guy who plays Darwin is, once he gets out of all of his makeup. She’s at some kind of stupid cast social thing where there is not nearly enough alcohol to make things kind of exciting.

Well, of course there isn’t. The last time they actually had booze at a Cirque function, some of the stupid acrobats decided that it would be an awesome idea to see how many shots it would take to make doing a backflip unsafe. From that moment on, all social gatherings would be dry (perhaps in more ways than one). 

But back to Darwin. 

Karen’s never worked with him before, but then again this is only her second show with the Cirque, so she hasn’t really worked with anyone here except for her friend Arthur. 

He’s across the room chatting up one of Darwin’s lab assistants. She rolls her eyes and pulls out her phone to text him. 

_What do you know about Darwin?_

It takes him about ten minutes to respond, and it’s weird because she can actually see him send the text message from across the room. 

_From Vancouver, first show. Nice guy, apparently. Name’s Matt._

She shoots Matt another glance, and downs her Diet Coke. He’s got nice cheekbones. That, and she’s seen worse.

* * *

Karen decides to approach him that day after they’re done doing a rehearsal at Citi Field and she’s deglittered sufficiently to look like a human being again. 

He’s still got his costume on when she finds him, and he looks pretty swanky in his waistcoat collared shirt. 

“Hey,” she says, and he turns around, waves at her, and goes back to taking off his costume. 

“I’m Karen,” she says, staring at him as he takes his shirt off.  _Awkward._

He turns around, still without shirt, and extends his hand to her. “Matt. Lovely to meet you.” 

She’s never shaken hands with a shirtless person in her entire life. Well, time for some new experiences now that she’s done her acrobat training.

“My friend Arthur and I were wondering whether you’d like to come to dinner with us this evening?”

“Sounds lovely,” he says, pulling a t-shirt on. “What were you guys planning on having?”

“Probably Indian takeout.” 

He smiles, which melts her heart a little bit. “I’m in.”  

* * *

So Karen, Arthur, and Matt get on the #7 train and venture in to Manhattan, because they haven’t explored the area around where they’re staying in Queens, and they figure if they start wandering around by Times Square, they’lleventually find a decent takeout spot.

Because Arthur is endlessly sensible, he suggests that they sit in a restaurant because their takeout will get cold on the way back out to Queens. So they end up at this cramped little place ten blocks south of Times Square, and Karen swears that her knees knock up against Matt and Arthur’s under the table.

“So,” Matt says, “where are you guys from?”

Arthur taps the table, because yes, he is a born and bred Manhattanite. “I actually lived about a hundred blocks north of here, though.” 

“Toronto,” Karen says. 

“Ah, another Canadian,” Matt says, smiling. 

“We’re a rare breed, eh?” Karen says.

“Can both of you say ‘out and about’ at the same time?” Arthur says, and smiles when they both do. 

“I don’t get that,” Matt says. “Everyone says we say it funny.” 

Karen nods. “I disagree.” 

“You do though!” 

* * *

Dinner is almost criminally fun. Matt juggles cutlery, and it’s at that point that they are politely asked to leave the restaurant, and then they end up sampling several different bars and nearly miss the last 7 train back to their hotel/apartment-y things in Queens, which would be bad because they would all risk getting fired for not showing up for rehearsal the next day, because it was their first show that evening. 

Karen and the other glass-spinners finally master their routine, which is crazy difficult and she was never taught to spin things on her feet in acrobat school. 

As she sits backstage and listens to the show continue, she thinks that she should call them and sort that out. 

She doesn’t see Arthur or Matt after the show’s over, because she’s so tired that she wants to marry her bed. 

The next morning she’s got a text from Matt. 

_you rocked the plate-spinning thing and the sparkly leotard_

She texts him back. 

_the glittery unitard is impossible to pull off. but you look pretty dapper in your costume - wish i could wear a waistcoat :)_

And he replies: 

_ah, you’re awake. breakfast?_

_yeah. i’ll text arthur and see if he wants to meet us too._

* * *

The three of them become fast friends over the next month, and discover that Arthur knows nothing about cooking when he attempts to microwave a can. 

“I grew up in Manhattan!” He says. “No one cooks in Manhattan!” 

“You’re still replacing the damn microwave,” Matt says, looking none too pleased. 

Matt also just comes and randomly hangs out in her little suite-thingy, and they watch TV (turns out they’re both big NCIS and Doctor Who fans) and walks back and forth to practice with her, and she finds that they’re spending more and more time together without Arthur, though that could be because Arthur’s finally managed to seal the deal with one of Matt’s lab assistants. 

She’s also taken to watching the show when she’s not onstage instead of hiding in the semi-communal dressing area. It’s mesmerising to watch, and she focusses in on Matt and thinks that she’s going to ask him to teach her how to juggle some day, because he kicks ass at juggling and the focus that he’s got when he performs makes her swoon a little. 

After that show, he waits for her after she’s done getting changed, as has become their routine, and they make their way back to their dorms together. 

“Hey,” he says, “I’ve discovered a wonderful Italian restaurant west of Central Park.” 

“Oh,” Karen says, “That’s cool. We have Sunday night off, right?” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’ll ask Arthur if he wants to bring Ines…” 

“I was kind of hoping,” Matt says, stopping and turning to face Karen in the dim light of streetlight, “we could go, just the two of us.” 

“Yeah,” Karen says, and suddenly begins to feel a bit flustered. “Yeah, that sounds wonderful, Matt.” 

“Pick you up at seven?” 

“It’s a date.” 

“It is.” 

He smiles like an idiot all the way back. 

* * *

So he brings her flowers on Sunday. 

“Is this appropriate first date protocol?” Karen asks him as she goes to find a glass large enough to place the bouquet in, because she doesn’t have a vase. “Because no one else has brought me flowers on a first date. Or ever, possibly.” 

“Perhaps I’m a keeper,” he says jokingly.

“We’ll see.” 

He holds her hand as they walk to the subway, and she doesn’t let go until they get to the restaurant and have to take off their jackets. 

It’s an awesome date. He’s funny, and smart, and full of puns. Karen laughs a lot, and sincerely hopes that she doesn’t make an idiot of herself. 

“Of course you aren’t making an idiot of yourself,” he says when she apologises to him over a shared tiramisu. “You have an awesome laugh.” 

That makes her blush. 

“You’re going monochrome!” He says. “Sorry, couldn’t resist. I haven’t made one good ginger joke since we’ve met and I have so many to share.” 

“For that,” she says, mock offended, “I’m finishing the rest of the wine.” 

They walk back down Broadway, and even though the skyscrapers create a wicked wind tunnel effect and it’s freaking cold because it’s March in New York and that sometimes happens, Karen feels warm, and it probably has something to do with the way that she presses herself in to Matt’s shoulder as they walk and laugh and generally make idiots of themselves. 

It’s nothing like the warmth that spreads down to her toes when he kisses her in front of the Time-Warner building, though. 

When they get back to their dorms, he drops her off at her room, but she stops him as he’s about to leave. 

“You should come in,” she says, “and tell me all of those ginger jokes.” 

She grabs him by the hand and leads him inside. 


End file.
